“We can put it back,” Ivy said, thinking of the one she’d seen. “Did you find the window that had been left open?”
Mitch shook his head. “Nada.”
“None of them were.” Bennett brushed a hand over his short, cropped hair. “Found a few cobwebs, but that was all.”
“We opened some to air out the place,” Mitch added.
Everywhere Ivy looked was dirty, dingy, and dank. Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t know how we’re going to manage all this work.”
Bennett put his arm around her shoulders. “You’ve got a good team here. You’ll be surprised at what we can do.”
“We could throw a barbecue and invite all the young, strong cousins for another cleaning and painting party,” Shelly said. “Poppy could help us rally them. I’ll bet Forrest would pitch in with some expert help in electrical and plumbing repair if we need it. And Reed is working full time with his construction company now.”
“We can’t keep calling on family to help us,” Ivy said, recalling how much they’d helped them get the house ready for rentals last year. Their nephew Reed had seemed eager to show off his new skills in construction management.
Shelly folded her arms and stared at her. “Why not? You know we’ll host the holidays here for everyone again this year—maybe forever at the rate the family is growing. Just wait until all the cousins get married and start having babies. No one except you has a house large enough for the entire Bay family.”
“Good point,” Ivy said. “I’ll see if they can do it this weekend.” Their twin brothers Flint and Forrest had nine children between them. Too many Bays on this coast was a frequent family joke.
“I’ll manage the barbecue,” Mitch said. “It will be fun. Like one of those old-fashioned barn raisings.”
Shelly raised her eyebrows and poked him. “What would you know about that, surfer dude?”
“Hey, I read,” Mitch protested.
Ivy tapped a finger on her chin. “When we were going through the things Amelia had stored last year, didn’t we see some crates of old books?”
“We did,” Shelly replied. “After the shelves are cleaned, we could bring them out.”
“Paige said Amelia was known for her literary salon. There might be quite a collection here.” They hadn’t had time to sort through all the crates. But now, in her mind’s eye, she could see the area taking shape.
“We could fill the bookshelves and spread some of the vintage rugs that are still rolled up over these wooden floors,” Ivy said, growing excited. “We could have lively conversations late into the night without bothering any of the guests upstairs.”
“So, what’s the difference between that and a wine club?” Shelly asked. “I thought books and wine went together like peas and carrots.”
“Peanut butter and jelly,” Bennett added.
“You and me,” Shelly said, flinging an arm around Mitch.
Ivy ran a hand across her forehead. “Come on, you guys. Be serious.”
Shelly laughed as Mitch swung her around. “Why start now, Ives? Our fun chi brings the right people here. Trust the process.”
“Maybe I’ve been too serious,” Ivy said. She was happy for Shelly; she just had a lot on her mind.
“That’s right,” Shelly said, giggling. “Rip up those lists.”
“Never hurts to lighten up,” Bennett said, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. Lowering his voice, he added, “You’ve been pretty wound up lately.” A question seemed to linger behind his words, though he didn’t voice it. Instead, he kneaded her neck with strong, gentle hands.
That much is true, Ivy thought, rotating her neck.
Without Shelly a hundred percent on board, Ivy had been working a lot of late hours. Tending to the landscape as well as the interior and guests was a lot for her to handle. Although Sunny was here, she was also taking summer school along with Jamir. She had miscalculated her credits and was still short for graduation.
Bennett kissed her cheek. “We’re all here to help get it done—right guys? As Shelly said, let’s make it fun.”
Ivy appreciated his understanding and reassurance. This was another reason she loved Bennett. He never hesitated to pitch in.
Ivy paced the area. “Besides a book club, we could hold other events or rent this space out.” As ideas came to her, the excitement of possibilities surged through her. “Wine tastings, lectures, and maybe even that jazz idea.”
“Now you’re thinking,” Shelly said. “I could film events and post them online.”
Shelly was growing more interested now. Maybe she had grown bored. “As people visit, more word gets around about the inn for weddings and other special events,” Ivy said. “It would be a win-win for everyone.”
Shelly’s eyes flashed with excitement. “We could have book sales, offer merchandise, maybe get patron support. Plus, we could derive a little advertising income from my video views. I know there’s a lot we could do.”
“As long as you have time.” Ivy glanced at Bennett, who was smiling at the exchange between her and Shelly. At least she knew she could count on him, and that was reassuring.
“I’d love to do this,” Shelly said with an earnest expression. “I’ve got this, Ives.”
“So why meet down here instead of upstairs?” Mitch asked.
“Good question,” Ivy said, nodding. “This will be a dedicated space, so we don’t have to worry about double booking. Like the wedding party we have later this month. They’re taking over most of the downstairs.”
Shelly groaned. “Please don’t tell me we won’t have another momzilla or bridezilla.”
“Not at all. I booked this while you and Mitch were on your honeymoon,” Ivy said. “They’re a sweet, older couple, so the whole wedding affair should be fairly sedate. They’re orchestra members, and the music they have planned will be beautiful.”
“We had great music, too,” Mitch said, nuzzling Shelly’s neck. “Everyone rocked out all night.”
“We’ll never forget that weekend,” Ivy said, smiling at Bennett. It was a time to remember for all of them. Now, as she watched Shelly and Mitch, she was so happy for them, even if Shelly had slacked off a little. Maybe that was inevitable.
The four of them walked around the downstairs area while Ivy made mental notes about cleaning and painting. Bennett and Mitch inspected the structural elements while Ivy and Shelly talked about uses for the space.
“We could make separate areas,” Ivy said, sketching out rough ideas on a pad she’d just retrieved from the kitchen.
“Eventually, we could have spa rooms on that side for massages and facials,” Shelly added. “A lot of guests ask for treatments, and the spa in the village gets booked up in the summer. Old hotels often had salons and barbershops on the ground floors or in the basement, sort of like the old hotel on Coronado Island.”
“These are all good ideas.” Ivy made a note of that. Last winter, Bennett had taken her ice skating at the Hotel del Coronado, and she’d been intrigued with its history. “We’ll have to be selective. That could be expensive to build.”